He's about as elegant as a snarled thorn bush. All sharp corners and cinched waist, he cuts both an intimidating but rather comical figure that seems to draw in a strange mixture of awe and ridicule. Doesn't matter- he doesn't give a shit. Haters can go die for all he cares.

"Majestic." He repeats, with a generous amount of ire. It might not quite register with Rebecca, though, since she doesn't really know the relationship between him and the ex-members of Overwatch. It might be Fareeha. It might be Ana. Either of them could fit the bill, if he were to be totally candid.

The correction gets a slight downward tilt of his head, looking down at her. Fully turning himself so that he's coming towards her with purposeful strides, he chuckles under his breath. It's a deep, raspy sound, like he'd been smoking ten packs a week for the past year or so.

"Ever think something might coming looking for you? Danger usually finds itself preying upon unsuspecting victims."

Is that a threat?